Red Handed by Jessa Wilder

The ballroom of the hotel Esposito looked completely different than I remembered, as I stepped through the huge double doors and onto the gleaming dance floor. Everything was bathed in a golden light that glittered off the impressive chandeliers and made the women’s jewelry sparkle even brighter. White-jacketed servers carrying trays of fizzing champagne wended between the beautifully dressed glitterati, and orchestral music trickled in from somewhere above. I grabbed a champagne flute from a tray as it whooshed past and downed it in one gulp. May as well drink their shitty booze while I was here.

Tonight I didn't need to climb through a window. No, tonight I was hiding in plain sight. My skin-tight black evening gown flowed to the floor, showing off my every curve. It was simple, but for the back, which was completely open, dipping almost to my ass. I’d left my hair loose, curled over my shoulder like Jessica Rabbit, and paired the dress with a simple black mask to match the occasion. Thankfully, the Esposito Annual Gala was always a masquerade, so I could go relatively undetected.

That was not true for most of the guests. Masks or not, you could always tell who the most high-profile guests were. Giovanna and Nicolai Esposito, for example, were not fooling anyone. Partly because Nicolai wore a black mask over only the right half of his face, like a dark phantom of the opera. I snorted as I passed him and his mother chatting to the Governor and his wife. Fucking prick.

The Hotel Esposito was just the latest business endeavor of the Esposito Family. An old crime family, who in recent years had tried to distance themselves from their century long mafia affiliation and appear to go legit. Of course, they hadn’t. They owned three major hotels in St. Adrian, and one in nearby New Forge, all of which were a front for a massive prostitution ring. It was the world's most high-class whorehouse, and it was happening right under the city's nose.

The former patriarch, Alessandro Esposito, had straight up been the Mayor of St. Adrian before he died five years ago of what was reported as a heart attack, brought on by stress during his run for Governor. From what I’d heard, his son, Nicolai, had just finished college, which was a fucking joke. Nicolai ran the Gentlemen, one of the largest and longest running criminal organizations on the East Coast. The original “gentlemen” were just Nicolai’s great-grandfather and his brothers, but now it was hundreds of men, most of whom weren’t actually part of the Esposito family. It didn’t matter what their names were, though. The Espositos and The Gentlemen were one in the same. They were in so deep with the cops and courts of this city, it was impossible to catch them on anything. If you wanted justice against the Espositos, you had to take it the old-fashioned way. Eye for an eye.

I’d never actually spoken to Nicolai, but I’d love nothing more than to wipe that condescending smirk off his stupid fucking face. I wasn’t usually violent unless provoked, but I could make an exception for him.

Tearing my eyes away from the Espositos, I scanned the room for my primary targets. Brian had given me my list in the car—passed on to him by my dad. There were a couple of influencers here wearing jewelry on loan from Cartier and Buccellati worth a few hundred thousand each. Those were my first targets.

I spotted one of the influencers across the room and made a beeline for her. Pretending like I was heading for the drink table behind her, I stepped abruptly into her path.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I said, as she bumped into me.

“Oh!” She looked surprised, which was fair. I had stepped out of nowhere in front of her.

“No worries, that was me.” I brushed past her, dragging my long nails along her arm.

The thing about pick pocketing was, it was all in the sleight of hand. She looked down at my hand on her arm, but she totally missed her necklace sliding off as she turned her head. Perfect.

The music of the party swelled, and the crowd swallowed me up as I hurried away before she noticed what had happened and could get a better look at my face or outfit. I quickly stashed the jewels in my clutch and spun through the crowd to disappear. Tonight was off to a good start. The diamond bracelet I picked up earlier had to be worth at least a few thousand dollars, and the night was still young. I turned, looking for my next mark, and crashed directly into a solid wall. A wall that spoke.

“Whoa, you aren’t on the guest list.” Large arms, wrapped around me, both steadying and holding me in place.

My gaze snapped in the direction of the man’s voice, ready to tell him to fuck off, but my breath froze in my throat.

His eyes were opposites, one such a light blue it neared white, and the other dark as night. He looked at me with an intensity that sent a thrill over my skin. My eyes scanned him, feeding the need to consume every detail.

He was double my size and blocked out my view of the rest of the ballroom—not that there was anything else worth looking at right at the moment. His chestnut-brown hair was shaved on the sides and long on the top, falling just above his mis-matched eyes, and revealing detailed black ink that ran into his crisp white collar. Even through his tailored designer suit, I could tell he was all lean muscle. He was a juxtaposition between grace and predator. It made him ten times hotter that I couldn’t instantly figure him out.

The tips of my fingers tingled, and I closed my grip not to reach out and trace the black lines of his tattoos. My cheeks flushed, and I raised my chin to meet his gaze. We’d stepped closer to each other, now mere inches apart. I should’ve felt intimidated. Scared. Fucking terrified by the way he watched me. Instead, blood rushed in my ears and my skin prickled with anticipation. Those devilish eyes glinted, and the corner of his mouth tipped up.

“Would you like to get—”

The stranger spoke, but was cut off as a young man holding a tray stepped towards us, effectively breaking the magnetic current the tattooed stranger held me under.

“Sorry…what?” My voice was raspy as I tried to suck down air to control my breathing.

“Did you want me to take that?” The server gestured toward the glass I held upside down over a puddle of champagne on the floor.

“Yes, of course. Sorry about that.” I held the now empty glass toward the server, and he took it, not returning my smile. Oops.

I turned a sharp look toward mis-matched eyes and huffed. “That was totally your fault.”

“Guilty.”

“Who are you?”

His hand raised to his sharp jaw, and his thumb ran along his bottom lip. “Well, I think you should be answering that question since I’m on the guest list.”

Shit… lie… I needed to lie. “I’m someone’s date.”

The man’s eyebrows pinched in the middle, making a small crease. “Whose?”

Dammit. I should've come up with a backstory before I got here, but God knows I didn’t expect anyone to actually ask. “I doubt you’d know him.”

He laughed lightly, gaze roaming over me. He seemed to relax. “You’d be surprised.”

It would be ridiculously irresponsible for me to get distracted while on a job, but I was not strong enough to resist this man. I looked him over, the last of my will power crumbling. “Are you some kind of YouTube influencer?”

He smiled, showing straight white teeth, and humor filled his voice. “You don’t know who I am?”

I choked on a laugh. “Full of ourselves, are we?”

His smile broadened. “You have a great laugh.”

I swallowed hard. His smile did wicked things to me. No man should look that good.

“I wouldn’t say I’m an Influencer. I’m in tech.” His hand dropped to my elbow, and sparks burned up my arm with the contact.

“Ah, so you’re here to spread your fancy crypto money around? That’s what all you tech guys are into now right? Or is it space travel?” I gave my head a shake and pulled my gaze from him. I scanned the crowd, ignoring the magnetic energy pulling me toward him.

He cleared his throat, voice low, dragging my attention back. “Do you think your mystery date would mind me taking a dance?” The word ‘date’ sounded a touch sharper than his others.

He held out a tattooed covered hand toward me, and my gaze caught on the black roses that curled over his knuckles. I took a deep breath. It was a dance. God knew it had been a while.

“Just one,” I said, smiling, and placed my hand in his.

I gasped when he tugged on my hand until we were flush. The heat of his chest burning through my clothes. His smile was gone, replaced with dark, hooded, two-toned eyes. He led me into a dance I had practiced for hours with Sophie, specifically for jobs like this.

“Not much of a talker?” I asked, as he moved me around the room in strong fluid motions.

He chuckled and let out a breath. “You could say that. Is that a problem?”

No. It really wasn’t. I bit my bottom lip, and his eyes tracked the motion, sending heat flooding between my thighs. I gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Nope.”

We turned around the room, skipping right through one song into the next, barely speaking. I would have thought he wasn’t interested if I hadn’t held his complete attention.

When the song stopped, he slid his palm down the back of my arm and laced our fingers, sending a shiver down my spine. He pulled me through the crowd and kept looking back at me as if worried I’d disappear. I would…but for once I didn’t want to.

I barely noticed when he tucked us into a corner, out of sight of most guests, but not exactly hidden. He raised his hand to my mask, sliding it up and over my face. My heart hammered in my chest, skipping every second beat as he lowered his mouth to mine. Just before our lips touched, his eyes went wide, and he stepped back, scanning over me like I was a completely different person.

“Who did you say your date was again?” he asked. His voice was sharp, devoid of the heat it held over the last however many minutes.

Something changed, and it was like an ice bucket was dumped on my head. I was in enemy territory, and I’d let my fucking guard down. I stalled, looking around, as a group of guests came closer.

One… Two… Three… I dipped out of his arms and melded myself between the guests, hurrying until I knew he couldn’t spot me, and slid my mask in place. My breaths came out in pants. Something felt off, and I needed to get the hell out of here before I figured out what it was. I ducked into the coat room to get a hold of my rushing heartbeat, before I could get back out there and act normal. The entire job was blown, and I just needed to get out of here without being seen. I took several deep breaths, counting as my pulse slowed.

Then, two deep male voices made me freeze.

“This is stupid. What are we doing?” The first voice spoke fast and low.

“No, I swear I saw the thief—” A second male voice. Was it familiar?

“Come on, I’m on duty.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. Fuck, what if they saw me take the necklace? First the painting, now this? I was usually better at my job. Just as I was considering whipping out my gun, the fabric of the coats parted and I blinked up into the familiar hazel eyes of the blonde guy from last night. Well, fuck.

“Hey!” He grinned down at me. “It’s the little thief. I have to say, I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Ballsy.”

“Did you think you’d see me again at all?” I asked, despite myself.

“Of course.” His hazel eyes danced with wicked delight. “As if you wouldn’t come back for more.”

I snorted and tried to push past him, but he didn’t move, boxing me in—something that was becoming way too familiar.

“Fuck off, Beck,” a voice said from over the blonde’s enormous shoulder. “She’s a security risk, not one of your groupies.”

For some reason, that statement bothered me more than it should have. I gave myself a little shake and leaned around the blonde—Beck’s—shoulder to see who had spoken. My stomach dropped out the bottom. The tattooed stranger looked back at me, arms crossed in front of him. He looked pissed. No, he looked fucking livid. So much for that.

He’d removed his jacket, and several guns were visible. Yeah, not one, several. He wasn’t trying to hide them, which implied they were supposed to be seen. A Gentlemen.

Anger burned at my chest, tinged with the sting of embarrassment. I took a deep breath and reminded myself who I was. Alright then. I moved my leg so the slit in my dress fell open, displaying the Baby Desert Eagle I had strapped there and the six-inch knife right below it. Fair was fair.

“She’s not afraid to use it, bro,” Beck said cheerfully. “My ear is still ringing.”

My dance partner said nothing. Only glared down at me.

“So, who are you, Little Thief?” Beck asked, tugging at the edge of my mask.

Two-tone Eyes barked out a laugh. “Don’t believe this one. She’s full of lies.”

“Me?” I asked, voice entirely too loud. “Okay, ‘Tech Guy.’”

Beck’s eyes bounced between us. “Wait? Have you guys met?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. There wasn't time, because at that moment too many things happened at once. The sound of the explosion hit half a second before the aftershock threw us to the floor. I had never been in an explosion, or even near one, but I assumed I would know what it sounded like. I didn’t.

It was like a car accident, fireworks, and gunshots all rolled into one, amplified ten times over. Screams erupted from the ballroom as the floor seemed to tilt, and I was thrown onto the marble, Beck’s enormous body landing on top of me.

“What the fuck!” Tech Guy yelled, his voice somewhere between anger and panic.

“Are you okay?” Beck asked from on top of me, his face pressing into the back of my neck.

“Yeah,” I grunted into the floor. “Get off me.”

I got the impression he had been trying to help by jumping on me, but the guy was huge, and I didn’t totally appreciate having my face smashed into the marble by two hundred plus pounds of solid muscle. Well intended or not, that shit hurt.

“Rush!” Beck rolled off me and spoke to Two-Tone Eyes. “Is your com online?”

“No,” my dance partner said, already on his feet and backing out of the room.

I scrambled to get up, my eyes darting all over. What the fuck. What the absolute fuck. That had to be a bomb. A tiny one, since we were still alive, but still.

We were on the fifth floor, and I would bet the main entrance was blocked. That was okay though, I hadn’t planned to go out the main entrance, anyway. I needed to get to the staff stairwell. I picked up the hem of my dress, kicked off my shoes, and ran. My mask had gotten knocked off when we fell, but that was the least of my problems.

“Wait!” Beck’s shout got lost in the panicked screams of the partygoers as I ducked low, making my way toward the swinging door behind the bar at the far end of the ballroom. Thankfully, it was unobstructed, as everyone else was pushing for the opposite exit. Everyone, that was, except two guys standing in the center of the now empty dance floor, lit by the bright golden glow of the chandeliers.

Now I knew where Two-tone Eyes had gone. He had run off to find Nicolai Esposito, and the two of them were now speaking in low voices, while everyone else panicked around them. I paused at the door to the kitchens, watching the strange serenity of seasoned gangsters used to violence, completely ignoring all the terrified normal people.

As if he could feel my eyes on him, Nicolai turned and looked right at me, making burning eye contact across the room. I held his piercing gaze for a moment before pushing open the swinging door and stepping into the stairwell beyond.

I looked back at him, imagining my hate could burn him even from this distance. I hoped he could see it in my eyes—the promise that one day I would pay his family back for what they did to mine. He watched me right back, and in the last second before the door swung shut, I winked.